


Never Mind The Poetry

by yellowwarbler



Category: DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha Slade Wilson, Knotting, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25687168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowwarbler/pseuds/yellowwarbler
Summary: Dick knows there's only one way to get what he needs. Slade is happy to oblige.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 168





	Never Mind The Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to mf_luder_ xf for the beta read :)

"This what you're looking for?" 

Slade cages Dick against the bathroom wall, hands pressed to either side of Dick's head while the thick outline of his cock grinded against Dick's ass. Dick lets his forehead dip down, pressing against the cool tile. 

"Right here?" Slade scrapes his teeth along the side of Dick's neck. "Want me to knot you in a bar bathroom? Let everyone who comes in see you're just a slutty alpha begging for a knot?"

He does. He _does_ want it. 

Dick's knees go weak. "I don't want them to see." Shame and arousal fighting low in his core. He can feel his cock leaking in his jeans. 

Slade bites down, enough to hurt. "Ask for what you want. Ask or I'll fuck you over the sink. Maybe we'll get lucky and someone'll get some pictures. You think your pretty face still rates the front page?"

"No, no, not--" Dick cuts himself off, worrying his lip so hard he nearly draws blood. Slade feels _so good_ against him, caging him in and holding him down. He _shouldn't_ want it, but Dick can't help himself, can't stop the need burning in his veins. "No," he begs. "I'll go anywhere you want, don't do it here, please don't--"

When Slade bites him again, Dick feels the skin break. No rush of instinctual rage follows it, no desire to break free of the stereotypical hold to force another alpha to submit. It feels different, a parody of the thing Dick wants but knows his body isn't capable of giving him. He wonders what it will look like in the morning, if it will scar in a perfect ring of teeth marks like a proper bonding bite. He wonders if Slade will leave them all over his body. Dick reaches down and squeezes his cock to stop himself from coming. 

"Okay," Slade says, backing off. Then he presses close again, dragging his tongue across the still bleeding mark. "Fuck, kid, you look good like this. Get your ass moving." He shoves Dick toward the door, herding him out of the bathroom and through the dingy, dimly lit bar. Dick only dropped by because he heard Deathstroke had been sighted. He was just supposed to be getting a heads up about why Slade was in Bludhaven without informing Dick. He hadn't come with anything else in mind. He _hadn't_.

When they step into the street, Slade pulls Dick against his side, forces him to tuck his face into the crook of Slade's neck.

"We can't," Dick hisses, trying to pull away. "Someone'll see--"

"All they'll see is an alpha walking with his drunk omega." Slade sounds bored. "You smell like me, kid. My mark's on you. There's not an inch of you that looks like an alpha."

Dick can think of a few inches of him that look like an alpha, actually, but he doesn't think Slade will appreciate the joke. 

The safehouse is less of a safehouse and actually just a motel down the road. Dick frowns. "Not really your scene, is it?"

"I'm not spending a grand on a five-star hotel just to fuck your ass, Grayson. You're too easy for the effort."

"I'm not," Dick denies, but when Slade's hand slides off his shoulder and into his hair and pulls, Dick doesn't fight him.

"You're a slut, Grayson. Anyone with a knot would do."

"Not anyone." Dick plasters himself to Slade as they approach the check-in window. "I only--" Just Slade. He'd never had the nerve to pursue another alpha. It just wasn't done. Slade is something else altogether for Dick.

"So you're just a slut for me?" Slade laughs, the low rumble of it vibrating in his throat against Dick's forehead. "Good to know, kid."

Dick's face reddens. He closes his eyes. "This was a bad idea," he mutters. Slade's hand tightens in his hair.

"It's always a bad idea. That's never stopped you before." He pulls Dick along to the counter and books them a room. Dick tries to keep his face hidden, but that doesn't stop him from hearing Slade book the room for two hours only, like he just knows all he needs is to fuck Dick before leaving town. Dick doesn't even rate a full night. 

Dick scrapes his teeth against Slade's neck. The hand in his hair clenches so hard Dick is afraid he'll leave him with a bald spot. "Try to bite me again, kid, and you won't have any teeth left." He shoves Dick away. "Move it. We're room 120."

Alphas biting other alphas is supposed to be a violent thing, meant for forcing submission. Alphas aren't supposed to like it. Slade obviously doesn't. 

Dick put a hand over the mark on his neck and presses down, hard, a thrill of pain shooting right to his cock. Something is wrong with him. 

Slade slams the door behind them and pushes Dick onto the bed. Dick falls flat on his stomach and scrambles up, kicking his shoes off and tugging his clothes. Slade watches him, that cold blue eye never leaving Dick. Slade doesn't undress. He stands beside the bed and palms his crotch, massaging himself. When Dick finally gets naked, Slade slaps Dick's thigh. "Knees," he orders. When Dick is face down and ass up, Slade slaps him again, hitting his ass a few times before kneeling on the bed behind him. He reaches between Dick's legs and cups a hand over the start of Dick's knot.

Dick rests the side of his face on the bed, thighs flexing. He wants Slade's hands on him, for those thick fingers to work his ass open. Dick wants Slade to mount him. "Please." He's never felt so keyed up in his life. No one does it for him like Slade. Nothing ever makes him feel so ashamed, so worthless, so goddamn _wet_ for it like Slade. 

Slade pushes a dry finger between Dick's cheeks, pushing at his hole. "Anyone had you since last time?"

Fuck, _fuck_. Dick pushes back, desperate for something inside him. "No one," he gasps. "There's been no one."

"You've been fucking omegas," Slade guesses, pushing a little harder. The tip of his finger pops in and Dick moans, loud and long. His cock leaks, dripping on the bed between his legs. "Pretending you weren't jealous. I bet you wish you could get wet like that." Dick tries to push back again, but Slade stops him, gripping Dick's hip with his free hand, holding him in place. "Say it!"

"I've b-been fucking omegas," Dick slurs, clenching his fists in the faded floral comforter. 

The finger inside him pulls out. Slade lets him go. Dick nearly collapses on the bed in anguish, but the feel of lube pouring between his cheeks and over his hole keeps him steady. Slade grabs his ass and spreads him open. Dick whimpers at the feel of being forced still and exposed. His knees press wider on the bed. 

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Slade runs two fingers over his hole, then plunges them in. Dick's body goes rigid at the sudden intrusion. Slade fucks him, curling his fingers. "I can't believe how tight you still are after all the times you've taken my knot. Must be all that jumping around on rooftops."

"Fuck!" Dick squeezes around Slade's fingers. He clenches his eyes shut and wishes he could block out the sound as well, the wet, squelching noise of Slade's fingers prying him open, his own hitched whimpers. "Just give me your knot!" He sounds pathetic even to his own ears. 

"Right, that's what you're really here for." Slade's cock rests on Dick's stretched out rim. "If you hadn't found me, you'd have gotten this from someone else." 

He wouldn't have. Dick would have gone home and fucked himself open with his fingers, desperate and hot for something he knows he shouldn't want. "Shut _up_."

A hand clenches in his hair, dragging his head back and forcing him to arch his back. "Say that again?" Slade's cock slides home in one thrust. The bulbous head of the knot pushes at his rim, only just beginning to swell. 

Dick's eyes roll back in his head. He's so goddamn _full_. When Slade lets his hair go, his hands falling to Dick's hips to drag him deeper onto his cock, Dick drops his face into the bed, arching and presenting his ass. "In," he finds himself begging, "please, more, get inside me--"

Slade's hand rears back. He spanks Dick's ass, grabbing the meat of it and squeezing. "You'll take what you get," he snarls. Dick can feel Slade's control slipping. He wiggles his hips back into Slade's grip, pleading without words. He wants it harder, faster, _deeper_ \--more of anything Slade is willing to give him. He wants what he can't get from the omegas and betas he fucks. He wants a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to submit, making him just lie there and take it, that dominant alpha scent overpowering him. He wants _so much_.

Slade fucks him harder, Dick sliding across the bed with every thrust. He throws his hand out and braces himself on the headboard, panting, every motion drawing staccato _ah, ah, ah_ 's from his lips. Dick aches from the pleasure. He'll feel Slade inside him for _days_ , see the evidence of the bruises on his ass and hips. 

Dick is so close, feels like his cock will shoot off at the slightest touch, but he fights it back. He doesn't want to come before Slade knots. He wants to come on that knot, wants Slade to feel Dick's body milking the come out of him, shaking apart around him. 

"Ask for it," Slade pants, his thrusting slowing, going shallow. Dick wants to cry from frustration. "Ask for what you want, Grayson."

"Your knot," he whispers, voice smothered in the sheets. Slade's fingers clench down on his hips, a warning. "Your knot!" Dick wonders if there's anyone in the room next to them. "I need your knot, Slade--"

"That's not how you ask." Slade sounds disappointed in him. "Whose knot do you want?"

Dick bites down on his arm, tears welling in his eyes. He needs it. Doesn't Slade understand he _needs_ it? "I want your knot," he tries again, voice thick. "Please give me your knot, alpha."

Slade groans, hunching over Dick. His forehead presses against Dick's shoulder blades. "Good boy." Dick shudders.

When Slade starts fucking him again, he doesn't hold back, slamming into Dick over and over, his knot swelling. Every time it catches on Dick's rim, threatening to push inside, Dick's breath stutters in his lungs. "Give it to me," he begs. "Alpha, give me your knot, put your come in me--"

Slade's hand hits the back of Dick's neck, forcing his head and chest all the way against the mattress. He grinds into Dick one last time, his knot catching on Dick's rim and almost, almost--

The knot pushes into Dick, swelling inside him. Dick feels Slade coming, feels the heat spreading. He comes so hard his vision goes black and splotchy, his body trembling with the force of it. Slade bites him again, the same spot, working his teeth on the open wound, holding Dick in place as he pushes the last of his seed inside him. 

Dick can't move. He feels like he's floating, full and warm and gliding above his body. He feels Slade roll them onto their sides, even feels the sharp tug of his knot pulling as they shift, trapped inside Dick. 

He'll come down eventually. Slade's knot will let him pull out, and Slade will put distance between them, will do his best to make sure Dick knows Slade thinks of him as a hole and nothing else. But for the moment, with Slade inside him, nuzzling at the sluggishly bleeding mark on Dick's neck and rhythmically squeezing Dick's knot with his hand, Dick can pretend. 

And if Dick knows one thing, it's that there will always be a next time.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Lyrical Disaster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244450) by [Averia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia)




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